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One Flew Over The Crow Tree

For years and years a massive Murder of Crows used to fly over my house on their way to their nightly roost. They would fly across the harbour, and head for a copse of trees at a university a few miles away. They would often (or some of them) alight in a huge tree two houses down the street. There could be two hundred, and they would fill the tree, cawing and rustling and flying around. Then, in twenty minutes or so, they would be on their way.

Alas, the university cut down that copse of trees for the construction of some buildings. The crows no longer make their journey. I do not know where they now roost.

However, one recent morning, I saw a crow at The Crow Tree. 

It hovered and hovered and hovered and hovered over The Crow Tree. I rarely ever see crows hover. Then it grabbed right on to the tallest piece of a branch (already denuded of leaves) and held on.

It swayed and swayed and swayed back and forth in the wind, sometimes using its wings for balance. It stayed so long that I was able to get my binoculars to watch (and totally confirm it was a crow). It was.

The crow put me in mind of a cowboy attempting to stay on the back of a bucking horse. Whoo-heee!! I imagined it saying. 

All told, it clung to the branch for a minute. Then it let go, flew up, and away.

I had not seen a crow on The Crow Tree for over a year. There are still local crows, in twos and tens, on the ground and in the trees. But not the massive flock that would (I assume) take a wee rest during their evening passage. I do miss their passage from east to west, spooky though it was.

DE

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A Snake In The Grass Is Worth Two In The Bush

Paw
My cat/kitten,
Black as Spades
With one white mitten,
Stopped dead in his tracks
And stared.
He could have been a statue.
So, I walked carefully
To stand beside him,
And also stared.
In the grass,
Perhaps a foot away,
Was a thin, long and
Young-looking snake.
It was stretched out,
In curves,
With its head erect,
And motionless.
Much like Paw.
There are not many snakes
On Partridge Island, and I have seen
Much bigger.
But, still,
It was a snake.
Paw was curious,
Cautious,
And scared.
I was careful.
Old Nick
Chose well

To use a snake,

To bring down
Humankind.
I guess we three
Waited five full minutes
With none of us moving.
So, I scooped up Paw
(He made no complaint),
And retreated the way
We had come.
I know the snake felt
Every step we trod.

{I’m The Lighthouse Poet Laureate of Partridge Island /1821 – 2023 / A lot of stuff have I seen / A lot of stuff to report}

DE BA. UEL

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Paw, The Cat/Kitten, Does Not Mean To Kill The Li’l Bird

I was sitting on my porch
Humble enough,
At my Lighthouse Keeper’s house,
When Paw, the cat/kitten,
Black as a  raven
With one white mitten,
Started playing with a flock
Of little birds.
They were in the bushes,
Flitting from branch to branch
Up and down and over.
He tried to catch one
And then another
And then an another
And then –

He succeeded.
He stood over the bird
Pushed it with his paw,
Sniffed at it,

Then came tearing over to me.
He snagged my pant leg
And pulled.
“Come come come” was in his meows,
So, I did.
The sea breeze ruffled the bird’s feathers
But
There was more movement than that.
I picked up the tiny bird,
Touched its breast,
Felt the trembling heart,
Saw its beak open and close,
And just held it closer to the sun.
It stirred, and stood, and wobbled
And gasped open its eyes
And started to fly
Before it stood.
Right back to the other li’l birds.
Paw slept by my feet
The rest of the day.

{I’m The Lighthouse Poet Laureate of Partridge Island /1821 – 2023 / A lot of stuff have I seen / A lot of stuff to report}

DE BA. UEL

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Paw, The Cat/Kitten, Takes A Walk

I have had to affix

A bell,

Around the neck of

Paw, my cat kitten,

Black as feathers

With one white mitten,


Because

He has acquired

A taste for birds.


This is natural and

Was to be expected.


I might not have done so

On the Mainland,

Where birds are plentiful

And fair game.

But on this island, 

Which one can circumnavigate

In under a two hour walk,

I feel the birds need

All the help they can get.

So – there it is.


And Paw, my cat kitten,

Protested for about

A half hour,

And not since.

He’s a smart li’l bugger.

He adapts.

And I swear, he gets

Faster.

Fast enough to still

Dine on the occasional

Avian feast.


Which he proves, by

Spitting out an errant

Feather or two

At my feet.

{I’m The Lighthouse Poet Laureate of Partridge Island /1821 – 2023 / A lot of stuff have I seen / A lot of stuff to report}

DE BA. UEL

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‘Tis An Ill Wind Indeed That Would Stop Beauty On Partridge Island

The bell rang from my Lighthouse dock,
Unexpectedly,
And down I went
To find Sister Darling of
The Rarefied Church of the World (reformed),
Having been delivered by
An outgoing fishing boat.


She had a basket over her arm
From which wafted aromas that
Promised a delightful evening repast.
She removed a packet from the basket,
Handed the basket to me,
Scooped up Paw
My cat/kitten,
Black as Blood Pudding
With one white mitten,
And headed away with him.


They went toward the Lighthouse,
While I took the provisions to my kitchen.
Then I caught them up.


Sister Darling was kneeling on the lee side
Of the Lighthouse tower,
Away from the assault of ocean wind.
She was digging in the earth
Helped by Paw, his front paws
In a flurry.

Her package contained flower seeds,
And she obviously had the Hope of God
In her repertoire.


Hey,
God is good to me
When Sister Darling is around,
So I knelt beside Paw.

Dig  Dig  Dig

{I’m The Lighthouse Poet Laureate of Partridge Island /1821 – 2023 / A lot of stuff have I seen/A lot of stuff to report}

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Does The Visitor To Partridge Island Want to Play?

Paw

My cat/kitten,

Black as night, with

One white mitten,

Has grabbed my pant leg,

And urges me to go with him.

Does he think I’m his father,

Or some sort of brother?

But off we go.

He leads me to the waterside

And there, splashing and frollicking

Like all get out,

Is a baby seal.

I like seals,

They are always smiling.

Paw looks at me

&

What the heck,

I toss him in.

First, I find out

Paw can really swim,

And, second,

The baby seal is a tease.

A gentle tease.

He butts Paw with his snout.

Dives in front of him,

And comes up behind.

Tickles him

(I swear)

With his whiskers.

I let them go at it,

Until I see Paw is

Getting tired,

So I scoop him out.

The baby seal looks at me,

And gives a bark,

So I bend over

And I scritch his head,

And away he scoots.

I’m The Lighthouse Poet Laureate of Partridge Island /1821 – 2023 / A lot of stuff have I seen / A lot of stuff to report}

DE BA.UEL

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Two Crows Look Out To Sea

Paw, my cat/kitten,

Black as the feathers of night,

With one white mitten,

Is starting, at times,

To put me in my place.

He’s a smart little bugger,

So I let him.

We were walking the perimeter

Of Partridge Island,

Which we do

Once or twice

A week,

When he jumped between my feet,

And damned near tripped me.

Which means

‘Stop, you oaf.’

So I did.

On a scraggly branch,

Of one of the scraggly trees,

Two crows were looking out to sea.

Side-by-side

Moving their heads,

Bob to the left

Bob to the right

Exchanging crow croaks,

Ruffling head feathers,

Throats held up in unison.

Seeing what they see,

Telling each other,

Moving, at times,

In tandem,

Along the scraggly branch,

Upon the scraggly tree.

Joy.

I’m The Lighthouse Poet Laureate of Partridge Island /1821 – 2023 / A lot of stuff have I seen / A lot of stuff to report}

DE BA.UEL

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Trapped On Partridge Island And Freed By A Cat

I allowed Paw, my cat/kitten

Black as all thunder

With one white mitten,

To walk, without cage or leash,

On this so-close to Spring day.

He’s gotta learn.

So, I was surprised when

He came dashing back,

Hooked a claw to my pant leg,

And pulled me forward.

I followed.

Down near the shore,

Close to the water.

Was a deer.

It had a hoof trapped

Between rocks.

Deer don’t swim over often,

And when they do,

They don’t stay.

But this doe,

In her way, young as Paw,

Was not going to leave.

Paw went up to her.

She didn’t struggle.

And, I swear to God

– Yes, Jehovah Himself –

That Paw started digging

Around the hoof.

Now, I would have had

Heavy second thoughts

Of helping,

If it had been a back leg.

One kick, and it would have been

Arse over teakettle for me.

But the deer tolerated Paw,

And Paw tolerated me,

And I got her free in a minute.

And away she ran.

And away she swam.

And I swear again to God

– Yes, Jehovah Himself –

Paw smiled.

I’m The Lighthouse Poet Laureate of Partridge Island /1821 – 2022 / A lot of stuff have I seen / A lot of stuff to report

DE BA. UEL

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I See As Far As The Eye Can See Out To Sea

It’s a rare, balmy day

Near the end of November.

I’m sitting on a bench with a back.

I made it myself,

Because a bench with a back

Is a thing of luxury.

I can lean

And not perch.

It is situated safely

Up from the shoreline,

Looking out to sea.

It will not get washed away

Regardless of the fierceness

Of the ocean and its storms.

The Lighthouse is behind me,

And Paw, my cat/kitten.

Black as black can be

With one white mitten,

Is snoozing in the sun

Beside me.

I ponder whether to wake him,

To see a half dozen ducks

Paddling their way around the island.

Paw has his whims,

And might try to catch one.

He won’t, of course,

And I have no desire to scoop

Him out of the cold, November water.

I’ll let him snooze.

I’ll let the ducks go upon their way.

I’ll just sit and enjoy the sun.

I’m The Lighthouse Poet Laureate of Partridge Island /1821 – 2022 / A lot of stuff have I seen / A lot of stuff to report

DE BA. UEL

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